


Lestatiquette

by Gairid



Series: Through the 4th Wall, Darkly [4]
Category: Vampire Chronicles - All Media Types, Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Fourth Wall, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:42:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gairid/pseuds/Gairid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestat is feeling persecuted; Louis is amused, Brian is sympathetic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lestatiquette

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vc_media on Dreamwidth](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=vc_media+on+Dreamwidth).



> In honor of a vc_media discussion regarding rumors of an etiquette book supposedly being penned by Lestat, I wrote a short fic. Thanks to Remco van Straten for the title and to pointedulac for the line concerning Daniel's gift of flowers.
> 
> Please note that the story harbors the idea that Nicolas de L'Enfant did not, in fact, die.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Lestat de Lioncourt, Louis de Pointe du Lac, Armand, Nicolas de L'Enfant, Daniel Molloy and the title _The Vampire Chronicles_ are the sole creation and property of Anne Rice and her publishers; no profit has been made from this writing. As always, written for love, not money.

“Oh that woman. That intolerable, crazy woman.” I muttered, stabbing furiously at my phone, deleting the stream of voice mails I’d been receiving from Daniel and Nicolas ever since she’d announced a new book. That title. THAT TITLE. Oh, they were having far too much fun with it, Nicolas most especially with his taunts about elevating my rank when after all I’d only been a hare-catcher Marquis whose head should have been lopped off lo, those many centuries ago. And Daniel, after having been schooled (by Nicki, I have no doubt) that I should be addressed as ‘Your Royal Highness’ rather than ‘Your Majesty’, asking when I would actually be the King of All Vampires and if it was permitted to ask a boon of his Royal Highness. 

“Boon! I’ll boon _him_ ” I said to Louis. He had been diplomatically quiet, watching me with an air of suppressed mirth, his green eyes entirely too merry by far. Did I mention the flowers with an accompanying card?

_"Congrats on your coronation, Big Guy - Excuse me. I mean Your Highness. Please don't cut off my head. Kisses, Danny_

Little bastard.

“I told you all those years ago that you should have put your foot down at that whole ‘Brat Prince’ thing. The proverbial slippery slope, that. And really ‘Brat’ is so undignified.”

“I know.” He was right , so there was no point in arguing about it. I wasn’t in the mood to argue anyway: what I wanted was sympathy and even if he was enjoying my discomfiture a little too much, I knew he could also see my side of it and indulge me. If I was lucky, I’d be able to work him into a rare tirade: she’s pushed his buttons a few times over the years, that much is certain.

“At least Armand’s stopped leaving his snide commentary on the for-God’s-sake answering machine. Tell me again why we still have a land-line?”

Louis ignored the last question as well as my ferocious glare. “Armand continues to leave messages. Brian erases them. He was quite alarmed when you shredded your jeans that last time.”

“He wasn’t alarmed, he was aroused.” I said with a sudden, appreciative chuckle. Louis contemplated that for a moment and then agreed. “Aroused, then. But he is as incensed as you are about all this untoward attention from your subjects...um, the coven, I mean.”

It was my turn to ignore a remark in favor of continuing on with my irritated whining. Hey, I know it for what it is, but really, if it were you, you’d indulge yourself, too, I promise you that. “Look, I know I am impossibly vain, but I’m no one’s Prince and neither do I have a yearning to save the coven from whatever she’s cooked up. Jesus Christ.”

He rose from his chair, my beautiful Louis, love of my life. “You are _my_ Prince,” he said, locking his arms about my neck and sniffing delicately in the vicinity of my carotid artery. He considered a moment and then went on. “And sometimes you are my Princess. Alas, sweeting, I’m afraid there is further unpleasant news.” Another flare of his nostrils.

“Oh, I know.” I said, touching my forehead to his, so that we were eye to eye. Already my pique seemed to be fading. “There will be yet another novel after this one, God help us all.”

“Worse than that, my love,” he said, swiping at my upper lip with his tongue before retreating back to his favored spot on the sofa. I joined him there.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” Brian called from the office. These days he rarely held up any sort of pretense that he was not listening.

“You have heard of Miss Manners?” Louis asked me.

“What?”

“Miss Manners.” he repeated.

“Oh my God.” Brian said in a choked voice from across the hall. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or holding back his impatience at Louis’s round-about manner of speech. That fit of pique I thought I was moving away from? It was back.

“Brian, come in here, please. You know how irritated I get when you shout from the other room.” I turned my head to look at Louis. “Miss Manners. Yes, I’ve heard of her. Why?”

Louis seized his bottom lip between his incisors with a regretful air and I exhaled strongly through my nose because really, it was all getting to be a bit much. He glanced at Brian, standing in the doorway.

“Etiquette.” Brian said and in him, at least, I sensed sympathy more than amusement at my expense. “She said you might possibly put out a book of vampire etiquette. Or something like that.”

“A teaser.” Louis supplied helpfully. “She wrote it as a sort of teaser on her Facebook page.”

“Well, what the hell do I know about etiquette? God, Louis, _you’d_ be the one to write a thing like that!” I fumed. He raised a questioning brow.

“She thinks that you never spill blood on your clothes.” Brian cut in. This time he chuckled a little. “Like, ever. But then, _she’s_ never done the laundry around here. Or reupholstered the furniture. Changed the wallpaper…” 

“She did come across as insufferably snobbish.” Louis interrupted. He pursed his lips just slightly… and did I hear his offended tone? Oh, I think I did. “And I have seen you with blood smeared across your mouth.”

“I’ve seen you both that way. Blood on more than your mouths, too. There’s probably pictures around here somewhere. And vids.” Brian said, eyes misty with memory. 

“As if anyone has any manners to speak of these days anyway.” I said in an aggrieved tone.

“This new book.” Louis bristled. “I do hope she doesn’t have you pontificating about fashion. She dresses everyone so horribly.”

“Giant violet sunglasses.” Brian said.

“Unraveling, dusty sweaters.” I said looking pointedly at Louis. He wrinkled his nose.

“Gold lamé trousers.” Louis said. “ _De riguer_ for blowing up helicopters.”

“Right.” Brian said. “And velvet suits. Don’t forget velvet suits. Everyone in New Orleans wears them because they are so comfortable in the tropical heat. Can I borrow your puce one, Lestat?”

“Brooks Brothers.” Louis sneered. “You know, Lestat, I don’t believe I’ve seen you in anything so conservative or sober as a Brooks Brothers suit.”

My phone vibrated. Another text from Daniel. _Requesting audience with the Prince. Is it permissible to drop by?_

I texted back. _Fuck off._

I turned on my heel and looked at them both. “Pack it up, Brian. We’re going to the lake for awhile. “ I dropped the phone on the couch and as it began vibrating yet again, I watched it disappear between the cushions.

FIN


End file.
